How hard can it be to fall in love with a football player when you're afraid of footballs...?
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Helping out her best friend by playing the lead in that music video project for university had seemed like an easy enough feat for art student Lorelai...
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»Dammit!« Lorelai cursed.
Somehow, between this morning, when she had gone to class, and now, when classes for the day had finished, the front tire of her bike had lost its will to work. It was as flat as her chest, completely useless. And no amount of puttering around would change the fact.
Khan and Dante, the two huge Irish Wolfhounds next to her, looked at her enquiringly, not understanding why their mistress angrily kicked her bike before she sat down on the sidewalk and let go a frustrated huff. So they followed her example and lay down to make themselves comfortable, their huge heads resting on their paws in front of them.
Lorelai heaved another sigh and pat them both while thinking about her options. She was going to be late for work now.
The students going about their business at the campus of fine arts didn't mind the young girl's frustration in the least. People walked by leisurely, either too immersed in their notes or animatedly talking to one another, on their way to the next class or wherever their way led them this fine day. The nice weather — blue sky, sunny and warm — complimented the easy-going vibe the campus usually had going on. That's what Lorelai liked about the art faculty of the Barcelonian university; compared to some of the other campuses in the city there wasn't that much stress and hectic dominating everyday life. Inspiration and relaxation before strain and overload. An artist's life, you could say. Going with the flow.
»What now?« she asked the dogs, not really expecting them to answer. All they did was look at her with those dark brown button eyes, waiting for instructions.
Lorelai grabbed her oversized shoulder bag, scrambling through the contents for her phone. She flipped it open, quickly searching through her contact list to call her workplace and apologize for running late. Thank the universe for understanding bosses, rare as they were.
It had been a few weeks since the video shoot. Life had gone back to normal; which meant that Lorelai's daily routine had gone back to the way it had been pre-video: camera-free, set-free and football-free.
Football-player-free too.
Not that she had taken particular notice of that. Lectures and classes had kept her fairly busy after all, along with her two part-time jobs: one was with her therapy dogs in various faculties around Barcelona, the other was a few hours of waiting on tables at a café downtown — to which she was now going to be running late.
She hadn't even had the time to think much about a certain someone she had decided not to think about much anyhow. Not that he had contacted her; she hadn't even received that one mail with the pictures.
Lorelai groaned, running a hand through her blonde locks. She looked at her phone after having made the call. Neymar had messed around with her after finding out she didn't possess a smartphone. She bit her lip — no use in thinking about that now. Or about him. He obviously had already forgotten about little ol' Lorelai.
